


like the darkness is the light

by amsves



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Actual Bartender Shizuo, Closet Sex, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Crossdressing, Fluff and Smut, Honestly if you're not uncomfortable with this thing in general you're doing it wrong, I hate myself, I mention blood so if you're uncomfortable be warned, I'M uncomfortable and i wrote the damn thing, Izaya dabbles in prostitution, Izaya is a beautiful lady, M/M, Namie is a makeup goddess, Non-Explicit, Non-Explicit Sex, Scratching, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9631490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amsves/pseuds/amsves
Summary: “Shizu-chan, I am the only person to have visited this bar yet tonight. Everyone else is simply having too good of a time to want to drown their sorrows in alcohol.” He slips his gloves back on, and smiles. “Why don’t you dance with me?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Your mind is in disturbia /  
> It's like the darkness is the light /  
> Disturbia /  
> Am I scaring you tonight?
> 
> don't make fun of me okay i still like this song

“White Russian, if you please, bartender.”  
  
Izaya drapes himself over the barstool fluidly, languidly pulling off his elbow-length gloves and folding them on the bar. He checks his cell phone, and then his other cell phone; neither have any new messages. Dissatisfied, he huffs, and leans on one elbow on the bar, careful not to disturb his mask.  
  
A drink is placed in front of him. He downs it in one go.  
  
The bartender takes away the glass, and only then does Izaya look up. _He’s a very tall man_ , he thinks to himself. I _t must be inconvenient being that tall. Oh, and he’s bleached his hair, too. Maybe he’s dangerous? Oh, wouldn’t that be fun!_  
  
“Wouldn’t what be fun?” the bartender grunts.  
  
Izaya blinks. “Oh, did I say that out loud? My apologies. Mr. …?”  
  
“The name’s Heiwajima Shizuo,” the bartender—Heiwajima—offers, wiping down the empty glass, “But everyone just calls me Shizuo.”  
  
“Well, my apologies, Shizu-chan.” Izaya runs a hand through his dark hair; it’s longer now, has been for the past few months, but he’s still not used to it grazing his shoulders. “Let me buy you a drink to make it up to you. Anything you like, on my tab.”  
  
“There’s no need to apologize,” Shizuo insists halfheartedly, but starts mixing himself a mojito anyways. “So, wouldn’t what be fun?” He takes a long sip of his drink.  
  
Izaya smirks. “Seducing you.”  
  
He ducks just in time to avoid the spray of mojito. Shizuo wipes his mouth on his sleeve. Izaya chuckles. “Well, you asked.”  
  
Shizuo says nothing, and so Izaya continues. “My name’s Nakura, Nakura Mika. I was here tonight to seduce Ryugamine Mikado, but, as you can see,” he gestures to the aforementioned boy behind him, who is slow-dancing with another girl, also masked, “he’s occupied. The next best would have been Yagiri Seiji, but I hear he has a stalker, and I like my face the way it is. Kida Masaomi also wouldn’t have been too bad of a bet, but we have a rather … checkered past, and I’m afraid he might recognize me, even with the mask, and cause a scene. So, as you can see, Shizu-chan,” he leans back in his barstool, “I’m bored out of my mind.”  
  
Shizuo finishes his drink. “Why don’t you go annoy someone else? I’m working.”  
  
“Shizu-chan, I am the only person to have visited this bar yet tonight. Everyone else is simply having too good of a time to want to drown their sorrows in alcohol.” He slips his gloves back on. “Why don’t you dance with me?”  
  
“I’m working.”  
  
“You’re telling me Tom-san needs you and himself to staff a bar that no one is visiting?” Izaya hops off the stool, skirt swirling around his ankles. “Come on, what do you say?”  
  
Shizuo sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine. One dance. _Maybe_ two. But then I have to get back to the bar.”  
  
-  
  
Shizuo does not go back to the bar.  
  
They have danced through three whole songs, and Shizuo has not exhibited any signs of wanting to leave. Izaya smiles to himself as he keeps up his act, flaunting his girlish and sensual demeanor like he’s done this his whole life. _I’ll have to thank Namie later_ , he thinks. _Everyone here is convinced. It must be the dress. Or, maybe, it’s the makeup? Anyways, it’s all her._  
  
Izaya’s dress certainly has stolen the show: a deep violet, almost black, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a slinky skirt with a slit up to his hip. His makeup is done in complementing colors: a purple smokey eye and dark red lipstick. Namie had taken almost an hour to do his face, throwing out terms like ‘strobing’ and ‘contour’ that Izaya had heard before but was completely in the dark as to their meaning. He shivers as he remembers the sensation of having his face done up; this certainly wasn’t the first time, but it was never pleasant.  
  
“Are you cold?” Shizuo’s inquiry snaps Izaya out of his daydream.  
  
“A little,” he admits, faux-shyness and embarrassment coloring his voice. “This dress doesn’t exactly cover up much skin.”  
  
“So I’ve noticed.”  
  
“Oh, really?” The song ends, and a new one takes its place: a slower song, one that doesn’t demand dancing so much as swaying back and forth rhythmically. Izaya loops his arms behind Shizuo’s neck, pulling them closer to each other. They’re flush with each other, and Shizuo is going red. Izaya’s grin stretched to each ear. “Do you like it? The dress?”  
  
“Why are you doing this?”  
  
Shizuo’s question is disappointing. Izaya drops his arms. “Doing what?”  
  
“I know your name isn’t really Nakura. I also know that you’re probably not even a girl, really. So I don’t understand why you’re here, all dressed up like some young socialite trying to catch a husband.” Seeing Izaya’s pout, he continues quickly, “Not that I think you’re unattractive or anything—”  
  
“Oh?” The pout vanishes, replaced by Izaya’s trademark smirk, sitting comfortably where it should be. “Shizu-chan thinks I’m attractive?”  
  
“—but I just don’t understand. What, are you a spy or something?”  
  
Izaya taps him on the nose. “Bingo! I’m actually a super secret government agent, here to steal everyone’s secrets! You’d best watch your back, or I might accidentally swipe those drugs someone planted on you!”  
  
Shizuo loots frantically through his pockets while Izaya laughs. “You were kidding.”  
  
“Of course, Shizu-chan. But seriously,” he says suddenly, his tone losing its laughing lilt. “Do you want to know the truth?” Shizuo shrugs. Izaya glances around the room. Everyone is still dancing and minding their own business, paying no attention to the brunette dancing with the bartender.  
  
“My name is Orihaya Izaya. I am twenty four years old, and yes, Shizu-chan, I’m a man. I work as an information broker and a sort of spy-for-hire, among other things. Basically, shady people pay me money to discover other shady people’s secrets, by any means necessary.” Shizuo’s face is devoid of any emotion, so Izaya continues. “I was sent here to investigate Ryugamine Mikado. Have you heard of the Dollars before?”  
  
“That color gang that has no color?”  
  
“Yeah. Well, he’s their leader. I was hired by his second-in-command to seduce him and then kill him, but I don’t think I’ll be getting to that one tonight. You see, he didn’t give me a time limit or anything. Aoba is a very patient man.”  
  
“Have you ever…” Shizuo’s voice is dry and low, “killed someone?”  
  
“That’s not a very pleasant conversation topic, is it, Shizu-chan?”  
  
“Okay, so, now that I know your real name, are you going to kill me, too?”  
  
“Really, Shizu-chan,” Izaya laughs lightly. “Have you ever talked to a lady before? You certainly know how to bring up a grizzly topic.”  
  
“DIdn’t we just establish—” Izaya presses a finger to Shizuo’s lips.  
  
“Until I leave here today,” he explains solemnly, “I am Nakura Mika, a twenty-year-old lady. You are not to blow my cover, understood?” Shizuo nods silently, and Izaya releases him. “Otherwise, I might have to kill you after all!” he adds cheerfully.  
  
“So, Shizu-chan, do you have any juicy secrets?”  
  
Shizuo runs a hand through his bleached hair. “Nope, not really. I’m a pretty boring man.”  
  
“I don’t believe that for a second. Come on, there must be _something_ interesting about you.”  
  
“Well, have you heard of the actor Hanejima Yuhei?” Izaya nods. “He’s my younger brother.”  
  
Izaya gasps playfully. “My, a star in the family! That is interesting, indeed! There are plenty of people who would pay me thousands of yen to hear that Hanejima Yuhei has an older brother by the name of Heiwajima Shizuo. Not, of course—” he adds, seeing Shizuo’s alarm, “that I’ll sell you out. You’re welcome, by the way.”  
  
Shizuo sighs in exasperation. “Alright, Miss Mika, it’s your turn for a secret.”  
  
“Hmm,” Izaya pretends to think for a bit, glee barely contained. “You said you thought I was attractive, right? Would you sleep with me?”  
  
Shizuo makes a choked sound in his throat. “Well, I—”  
  
“You would? Aww, I’m so flattered, Shizu-chan! I’ll have to thank Namie later for making me such a catch!” He presses up against Shizuo flirtily, fingers teasing the back of the bartender’s collar. “So, as for that secret I owe you—I think you’ll like it!—take a look at my dress. More specifically, my skirt. Even more specifically, take a nice, long look at the slit.” Shizuo’s eyes follow the cut of the fabric, which saucily displays a strip of perfectly pale, milky skin.  
  
“Do you see how high it goes?”  Shizuo nods, and swallows.  
  
“Now, tell me, Shizu-chan,” _Got him!_ he thinks to himself, “Do you really think that I could be wearing boxers with a slit this high?”  
  
Shizuo’s blush takes up his whole face and goes down his neck, too. He shakes his head ‘no.’  
  
Izaya strains himself not to cackle; that would be distasteful and not at all like Nakura Mika. Still, it’s hard not to celebrate this victory. “You would be correct, good sir! Thanks for playing! And for your prize, you’ve won—”  
  
Izaya’s voice is cut off by Shizuo’s lips on his.  
  
_Seriously, I’ve got to praise Namie_ , he reflects for a moment, before kissing back. It’s clear that Shizuo’s not a ladies’ man; his kiss is sloppy and messy and not at all Hollywood-approved. It’s more akin to eating than kissing, really, but as disgusting as that is, Izaya can’t bring himself to mind. He lets Shizuo take control, following the taller man’s lead.  
  
Eventually, Shizuo breaks it off. He’s flushed like he’s just come out of gym class, and there’s a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. Izaya’s lipstick is gone.  
  
The crowd has taken notice of them now, so Izaya puts a hand up to stop Shizuo from diving back in for another kiss. “Why don’t we take this somewhere else? ” he suggests in a whisper. “My place isn’t far, just a few blocks or so. Let’s head there.”  
  
“Too far,” Shizuo counters, “But don’t worry. I know somewhere.”  
  
-  
  
Somewhere, as it turns out, is the janitor’s closet.  
  
Well, Izaya can hardly blame the man before him. He’s trembling like a leaf in the wind, and practically foaming at the mouth. It’s almost more disturbing than hot.  
  
Almost, but not quite. Izaya slams the door behind them and immediately starts ripping off his (painful) heels. Shizuo pins him against the door, and Izaya tears recklessly at the buttons on his bartending uniform. _I hope this wasn’t too expensive; he probably won’t be able to wear it again._  
  
Finally, Shizuo’s shirt is off, and Izaya tackles him to the ground. He sits on Shizuo’s lap and daintily opens the fly of his trousers. “Well, Shizu-chan,” he whispers in a hoarse voice, “How do you want me?”  
  
Shizuo caresses Izaya’s face. “Just as you are. Facing me, so I can see your expressions.”  
  
“Oh, you like observing humans, too? What a lovely coincidence!”  
  
Shizuo shakes his head. “Not all humans. Just you.” He blinks, and suddenly Izaya is tearing a condom open with his teeth. “Where did you get that?”  
  
“The dress has pockets,” Izaya replies cheekily. “Handy, right? You never know if someone is going to carry one with them, and so I normally just keep one on me at all times.”  
  
Izaya hands the condom off to Shizuo, and he slips it on carefully, making sure it won’t fall off or rip and ruin the heat of the moment. Izaya waits, impatient.  
  
Finally, after what feels like forever, Shizuo is ready. “Hey, Izaya, just a question,” he asks casually, “how much did you pay for that dress?”  
  
“This dress?” Izaya looks down. “I have no idea. It’s Namie’s.”  
  
“Well,” Shizuo’s grin could rival Izaya’s, “I hope she doesn’t want it back.”  
  
And then Izaya feels like he’s ripping in half.  
  
Everything is a blur of _hot_ and _ow_ and _more please, oh please God_. Izaya’s pretty sure he’s drawn Shizuo’s blood at least once, and it’s going to take more of Namie’s makeup magic to get him ready to see clients the next day, if he can even walk at all. He’s lost track of how much time has passed. It’s as if they exist in a vacuum: just Izaya and Shizuo and no one else.  
  
And then, suddenly, it’s over. They stay there, panting, sweaty, flushed.  
  
Izaya’s mask slips off. He covers his hands with his eyes.  
  
Shizuo pulls them away. “Why’re you covering your face like that? It’s not like you’re hideously scarred.”  
  
Izaya swats at Shizuo. “It’s a masquerade, dummy. All the women are supposed to be masked.”  
  
“Are we seriously still pretending you’re a girl when we just finished fucking and your dick is still in my field of vision?”  
  
“It adds to the intrigue. It’s supposed to be mysterious and sexy.”  
  
Shizuo rolls his eyes. “I know I asked before if you were going to kill me, and I know you said no, but I swear, Izaya. You’re going to be the death of me.”  
  
“Hmm,” Izaya traces nonsensical lines with his finger on Shizuo’s bare skin, “is that so? Well, then, Shizu-chan, if you’re so ready to die, how about a second round?”

**Author's Note:**

> 'how do you want me' i was tempted to delete this whole document after that one line right there
> 
> OMAKE   
> Shizuo falls asleep on the ground after Round 2. Izaya steals his wallet.


End file.
